


Above the Clouds

by Kienova



Series: Distances to Overcome [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Post-Episode: s01e06 FZZT, References to Depression, discussion of attempted suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 15:06:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11466111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kienova/pseuds/Kienova
Summary: “Oh God, please, please let her be alright,” he muttered, nausea wracking his form as images of a snowy night merged with the sight of her being swept out of the plane, plummeting towards the ocean below.





	Above the Clouds

**Author's Note:**

> Got stuck in my head, wouldn't leave me alone. Follow up to [Along the Ledge](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11176068>%20)

The reality of what was happening took a few moments to sink in, his throat raw from screaming her name, hands shaking from attempting to shove the parachute on while keeping a tight grip on the antiserum. He was standing next to the open cargo doors, fist clenching against the edge, heart pounding as he held his breath, pleading that Ward would make it in time.

“Oh God, please, please let her be alright,” he muttered, nausea wracking his form as images of a snowy night merged with the sight of her being swept out of the plane, plummeting towards the ocean below. He hadn’t believed in God since he was a child, preferring to align himself with science, much to his mother’s dismay at first. But he was willing to overlook his own thoughts of the last twenty years if only she would be safe. Dizziness swarming in his head, he tightened his grip on the edge of the plane, trying to peer down below while desperately attempting to remember any of the prayers his mother had tried to teach him or that he had heard while attending mass on Sundays with her. “Hail Mary, full of grace...”

_“Package acquired. Care to come get us May?”_ Ward’s voice boomed through the speakers of the plane, Fitz’s heart seizing in his chest with relief. Jemma was safe. She was alive.

“Thank you, oh God, thank you,” Fitz muttered, clenching his eyes shut tightly against the barrage of tears that suddenly threatened to overcome him. He had thought... he didn’t want to remember the look on her face as she was swept out into the wind. The look of resigned determination, fear, and sadness that encompassed her in a way he had only seen once before, hundreds of nights earlier in a snow storm on a roof miles and miles away.

“Fitz?” Skye asked, hand on his elbow as she tugged him backward, the cargo bay closing with the flip of a switch as the plane slowly started to circle and descend towards the water. He couldn’t get the words out, his knees suddenly unable to hold his weight as he sank down to the ground. Skye dropped down next to him, curling an arm around his shoulders as she took in his pained expression. Fitz wrapped his arms around himself, gasping for breath as his vision swam, his lungs seizing painfully as he struggled to breathe. “Fitz!”

He tried to wave Skye away, attempting to measure his breathing in time with the whirring of the engines while pushing his anxiety attack away. His own muscles seized painfully as he attempted to tighten his grip on himself, feeling every stretch of tendon and ligament aching as they tried to shake.

“I thought,” he muttered, gasping still, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. “I thought that... that I lost her.” The words spilled out staggered and grief riddled, causing Skye to cling to him even harder as she whispered platitudes against his temple. “I thought I wasn’t fast enough this time.” That caused her to pause, her body stiffening where it knelt against his as she tried to pry him to his feet and lead him towards the lab.

“What do you mean Fitz?” she questioned, finally managing to get him up and off the ground. He staggered as they walked towards the end of the cargo hold, collapsing onto the ground again a moment later, a look of exhaustion swallowing his features as tears trickled down his cheeks, clinging to his lashes as he tried to blink them away.  

“It was years ago. Everything... things were going so poorly for her... she couldn’t... I found her on the roof of our dorm.” He felt more than saw Skye suck in a breath at the statement. He could feel his heart still pounding beneath his ribs at the words, the memories assaulting him in flashes. He had always kept what had happened that night a secret, making sure that Jemma spoke to someone about it, but otherwise leaving it between them and not another soul. He had never brought it up since that first winter holiday. Hadn’t pressed her for what had happened. Never pressured her into anything she wasn’t ready to speak about, even when he could sense her depression rearing its ugly head every so often. “It hasn’t gotten that bad for her since that night – at least, not that I know of. Sometimes... sometimes there are days when I think it might, but then she manages to pull herself out of it or just... sleeps it off. But I’m always terrified that it will happen again. And that’s all I could see when she was standing there at the edge of the cargo bay... that I hadn’t done enough to stop it. To stop her feeling like there was no other option. That it had gotten the better of her.”

“I had no idea,” Skye breathed, covering her mouth with her hand, looking down at the floor of the plane.

“She doesn’t talk about it. Not to me. Not to anyone. And sometimes... sometimes it is just so _hard_ to love someone with depression.” The words spilled from him like his tears, staining the fabric of his jeans as they fell, making the air thick. Skye pulled back slightly, a complex expression crossing her features at the words, her own jumbled emotions and fears raging inside her head. Part of her was compelled to grasp onto the word ‘ _love’_ while the other wanted to know why he would make such a statement. If he truly loved her, how could he say that it was hard to accept her?

“What do you mean, it’s hard? She’s just another person, mental illness or not. Just because she suffers from depression doesn’t mean she should be treated differently. What’s so hard about caring for someone with an illness?” Skye said, voice harsher than she initially intended but unable to temper herself, her own emotions and worries crashing down on her as they made the final descent towards the water. Fitz let out a watery laugh, swiping at his tears with the hem of his sleeve.

“Loving Jemma is the easiest and most important thing I’ve ever done,” he started, sniffing loudly. “It’s only hard because I know that sometimes, no matter what I do, I can’t make it better for her, and I wish I could.” Skye softened at the confession. “I just want her to be happy Skye. I love her for all that she is and all that she can be, regardless of depression or anxiety or anything else she could come to me baring. She’s my entire world.” His face crumpled again as the words left him, a sob breaking free as he attempted to wipe his face clean, feeling how the plane was now hovering instead of descending.

“Fitz –” Skye started.

“I’ve never said it out loud before,” he muttered, getting up on shaking legs as he staggered to one of the tables, wrenching a handful of tissues from the box and blowing his lose loudly.

“Surely Jemma knows how you feel,” Skye offered, watching him carefully as he tried to put himself back together. The smile he gave her was broken, his head shaking as he looked down at his hands, scrunching up the tissues until he tossed them in the bin.

“My feelings don’t matter. I just need her to be okay,” he replied, taking a shuddering breath as he moved back out of the lab, gait unsteady but determined as he walked back into the cargo bay, watching as Ward and Jemma staggered back onto the plane, both of them looking completely windblown and dripping with sea water. Coulson stood at the base of the stairs, his expression filled with anger.

“You two. My office. Ten minutes.” He barked, turning and retreating back up the stairs. Ward rolled his eyes, kicking off his soaking wet shoes before he marched towards the stairs, intent on a quick shower. Jemma was slower to follow, glancing up at Fitz and Skye with a weak smile. Skye glanced towards the man next to her, noticing how he seemed to be reigning himself in, his posture speaking of a desperation to run across the cargo bay and grab onto the young woman on the other side of the plane, not caring about protocol nor getting his own clothes soaked.

“I’m sorry,” Jemma said, voice so quiet it barely carried across the room, her body moving on autopilot towards the stairs.

“But are you okay?” Fitz asked in response, his own voice shaking. She nodded slowly.

“Yes,” she breathed, crossing the few feet between where the stairs were to come and stand in front of him, her trembling fingers grabbing his hand and squeezing gently. “I’ll come find you after?” she asked, head cocked to the side. Fitz nodded, trying to memorise the feeling of her cold fingers against his palm before she broke away and left the cargo bay. The minute Jemma cleared the upper door Fitz’ knees gave out again, his body sinking down to the floor.

“She’s okay,” Skye whispered, crouching down next to him. “She’s going to be just fine.” He nodded deftly, taking in a few shuddering breaths before he looked up at the younger woman.

“I’m going to go get myself sorted. I’ll be in my bunk,” he muttered after a few moments of terse silence, getting to his feet and fleeing the room. Skye watched him go, sighing to herself. She wondered how long he would be able to keep it together before Simmons would figure out there was something more going on with him and his feelings towards her.

XxX

Jemma’s breath caught in her throat as she sat upright, her heart pounding as she tried to dispel the feeling of falling from her mind. Her head was still swimming, nausea settling low in her belly at the residual sensation that stayed with her, even as the plane was steady in the air. She clenched her eyes shut, drawing in a ragged breath before trying to untangle herself from the covers. She tried to push the day’s events out of her mind, from being locked in the lab, to having Coulson’s anger at her actions, to the expression that Fitz wore as she tried to tell him how much he had done – that he was the reason she had survived, even if he hadn’t been the one to jump out of the plane to save her.

With a shaking breath she sat up, ignoring how her clothes stuck to her skin slightly from where she had been sweating in her sleep, the image of the ocean coming closer and closer while her blood simmered in her veins replaying over and over. She needed to get a glass of water, or at least to move around, just to try and stop her mind from racing for a moment. She wondered, belatedly, if Fitz was still awake. If he was struggling with the day’s events like she was.

As she lowered her feet over the edge of the bed she gasped, coming into contact with a solid form against the bedside table. She scrambled for the light switch, flicking on the lamp and blinking frantically to adjust her vision.

Against the wood, sitting vigil in the dark, was Fitz. 

He grumbled in his sleep, cringing at the light as he opened his eyes, glancing up until he could settle his gaze on her face.

“Jemma, is everything alright?” he questioned, sitting up straighter and trying to disguise the creak that came from his back at the movement. She couldn’t recall the last time he had used her first name so many times in one day, almost seeming to lose her surname from his vocabulary.

“What are you doing?” she asked, not bothering to respond to his query, her own curiosity getting the better of her. He blushed slightly, looking down at his hands as he fidgeted with the edge of his jumper.

“I...” he started, voice trembling as he attempted to talk around the feeling of his mouth being filled with cotton. He didn’t know how to tell her, how to explain to her, how much he needed to be with her. To know she was alright. To listen to her breathing just to calm his own racing mind enough that he didn’t spin into utter panic. “Jemma... do you remember the... the first night we talked?” She blinked at him, moving until her body rested against the wall of the fuselage, her knees pulled up to her chest as she cocked her head to the side, unsure what he was talking about.

“In chem lab?” she queried, wracking her brain for what had happened that day other than the two of them exchanging only a few words. Fitz shook his head, shifting around as the handle of the nightstand drawer dug painfully into his back.

“No... the night I found you on the roof.” He said. Jemma froze slightly, a fight or flight response bubbling beneath her skin as she prepared for the conversation.  

“What does that have to do with this?” she stammered, unable to completely keep the shock from her tone. Fitz sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck as he got to his feet before sitting on the edge of the bed, reaching for her hand until he could pull it into his lap, twining his fingers with hers as his thumb stroked over her knuckles. Jemma regarded him with trepidation, unsure what he was trying to say, her mind flitting between worry and the sensation of his warm palm against her cool one.

“That... the night that I...” he mumbled, clenching his eyes shut as he tried to voice the thoughts that had been swirling around in his head for ages. “Seeing you standing there... ready to... to jump... Jemma... that was the most terrifying moment of my life.” He paused for a second before speaking again, voice cracking painfully. “Until today.” He felt her suck in a breath next to him, her body tensing even as her fingers laced more tightly with his. “Watching you fall from the cargo bay... I’ve... I’ve never felt so helpless. So scared. I thought I lost you. That I wasn’t able to save you. To stop you. The thought of living in a world without you... fuck, Jemma. I can’t stomach the idea.” He didn’t realise he was crying until he felt her shaking fingers brushing the tears from his cheeks.

“Fitz,” she breathed, cupping his face in her hand. He forced himself to look at her then, taking in the way that her own unshed tears were collecting at the edges of her lashes. “I didn’t want to leave you. I never wanted that. I just... I didn’t know how else to keep you safe.” He nodded, unable to speak, closing his eyes to just dwell in the feeling of her hand on his skin for another moment before he pushed forward, enveloping her in a tight embrace. Jemma hesitated for only a split second before returning the hug, burying her face in his neck and clinging to him, unable to stop the sobs that tore out of her as she crashed.

“Promise me you’ll never try to leave me like that again,” he panted against her hair. Jemma nodded against his shoulder, tightening her hold on him.

“I promise. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she cried. He lost track of how long he held her, rocking her gently as her weeping slowed until it trickled off all together, his own tears drying as time went on until he felt her body sag against him, exhaustion finally pulled her back into sleep.

Fitz gently untangled her limbs from himself, lying her back on the bed as he stroked her cheek, pushing her hair from her face. Gingerly, he stood up, cracking his back before lowering himself back down by the nightstand, resuming his position from earlier in the evening with one exception. His one hand moved to the mattress, curling his fingers around Jemma’s as she slept, unable to endure being separated from her completely. He closed his eyes, feeling himself drifting into sleep a moment later, but not before he felt her fingers tighten against his.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading <3


End file.
